


When Hell Freezes Over

by Siguna



Category: Captain America (2011), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siguna/pseuds/Siguna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for a challenge fic that <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/dfotw/pseuds/dfotw">dfotw</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/punsrus/pseuds/punsrus">punsrus</a> and I set for ourselves. The prompt was "A major protagonist is brainwashed into switching sides" with Loki/Steve, so this is what I came up with.</p>
    </blockquote>





	When Hell Freezes Over

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a challenge fic that [dfotw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dfotw/pseuds/dfotw), [punsrus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/punsrus/pseuds/punsrus) and I set for ourselves. The prompt was "A major protagonist is brainwashed into switching sides" with Loki/Steve, so this is what I came up with.

Steve likes it in the Avengers tower. Really, he does. It’s exceedingly nice to have somewhere to belong and people to belong with after being thrown so completely out of the life he once knew. He fits in here, or at least his profile does. Super soldier and all that, it slides in quite nicely with super scientists and super assassins and demigods. 

Well, demi _god_ , in the singular, despite all Thor’s hopes that his deranged brother will somehow see the light and join their boyband, as Tony likes to call it. Natasha doesn’t even object to the name, which Steve finds – a little odd, if he’s being honest, but Clint _is_ always saying that she has more balls than the lot of them and that, yeah, Steve doesn’t think it wise to argue with that. 

Though heaven knows they argue about just about anything and everything up here, whether it’s Tony pestering Natasha or Clint testing Bruce or Thor trying to argue with Jarvis – though, admittedly, the latter is pretty hilarious. Steve doesn’t know why Thor is so bent on trying to get the better of Jarvis, he just is, and makes it almost a daily habit to start a conversation with the household AI and then, well. Jarvis counters everything Thor says with maddening logic that manages to come off as scornful at the same time, and Thor mostly doesn’t understand any of it (though Steve is not far ahead of him there) which is bad because his temper snaps pretty easily, and it doesn’t take much before he’s hurling archaic insults at the ceiling and getting even angrier because Jarvis, being Jarvis, never loses a particle of his cool. It’s entertaining, but it also gets tedious, especially when Thor actually starts breaking things. 

Thor does not like Jarvis.

The point is, great as it is living with the Avengers, Steve just wishes things were _quieter_ sometimes. Like, for example, right now, he would really appreciate being able to finish his breakfast in peace. 

“Thor, buddy, really, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, the energy signature radar only works within a certain radius, I cannot track your psycho brother’s global whereabouts. Currently, I do not know where he is. I know where he is not, and that is within a hundred miles of my tower.” Tony is scowling over his tablet, fingers darting impatiently across the glass, and Steve thinks his own expression might not look too different. Standing over him, Thor frowns and crosses his arms. “Surely you can devise some way of doing so. Voice of the tower, can it not be done?” He eyes the ceiling challengingly, and Steve drops his chin gently into his plate.

Tony stands up, shoving his tablet under his arm. “Jarvis, do not answer him. Thor, really? I mean, I know I make it look easy, but – _really?_ ” He gives the rest of the team a dramatic look before stalking off.

Steve lifts his chin out of his eggs and picks his fork up hopefully.  

“He’s totally going to try to do it,” Clint pipes up from where he’s perched on the kitchen island. Steve’s hand wavers. He glances warily at Thor, who promptly breaks into the sunniest grin imaginable. “Is it so?” he exclaims, bounding over to wrap Clint into an enormous bear hug, which Clint tries to dodge but of course, can’t. Natasha adjusts her languid stretch over the sofa and smiles amusedly. “To get Thor out of his hair, probably, yes.” 

“More like just to prove that he can,” Clint says, muffled, into Thor’s shoulder, and follows it up with, “Thor – please – oxygen?”

Thor lets him go and all but skips out of the kitchen, Mjolnir swinging from one hand. Steve’s about to call out to him to watch for the walls since the hallway’s not exactly built to accommodate bouncing demigods, just as the crash rings out, and he sighs, and hopes that Tony can pull it off so that this particular episode can stop happening.

It only ends up happening twice more after that.

A few days later Steve’s in the common room with Bruce and they’re watching some kind of scientific documentary that is honestly way over Steve’s head, but thankfully that means that no one else besides Bruce is really interested – Tony being immersed in his workshop – and so they’re the only ones there. Steve appreciates not having to stay holed up in his room for some quiet for once, and he’s got his sketchbook and his charcoal and he’s doing loose renderings of Bruce’s varying captivated expressions, and it’s really, really nice. Until Tony bursts into the room, welding goggles shoved into his hair and torch in hand, and does he smell like burnt flesh or is Steve imagining things? He sets his sketchbook down slowly, page open so the coal won’t smudge, and blinks at Tony. 

“Where’s Thor?” Tony demands, leaping onto the coffee table. Steve immediately regrets placing his sketchbook there. He starts to reach out for it but too late, Tony has kicked it onto the ground and he’s yelling now, “Thor you big sack of beard, get in here! Jarvis, get him in here, I freaking did it! Bruce, Steve, hey, I did it, I – ” 

Steve’s not listening. He’s down on the ground salvaging his sketchbook from Bruce’s bowl of Cheetos that Tony has also cheerfully overturned, and there are cheese smatterings in his sketches now and really, is a little consideration too much to ask for, and why yes, yes it seems it is, and now Thor and Clint and Natasha are here and what is Clint doing – 

Clint makes a leap for the coach and lands gracelessly next to Bruce, combat boots crunching into the Cheeto crumbs and grinding them into the carpet along with the remains of Steve’s charcoal. 

“Tony, this is very exciting and all, but look what a mess you’ve made, was that really necessary? Steve, is your sketchbook okay?” And Bruce is beside him, crouching down and shoving Clint’s legs out of the way. “Yeah,” Steve sighs, “I mean, don’t worry about it, I’ll just –”

“Uh, hello, scientific breakthrough here, who freaking cares about the sketchbook,” Tony interrupts, crossing his arms. “Bruce, really, _listen_ ,” and he goes off into a long ramble of scientific jargon that nobody understands except for Bruce, who suddenly gets this really rapt look on his face, and maybe also Natasha, who seems to more or less follow what Tony’s saying. Steve hugs his sketchbook to his chest and retreats to the far armchair.

It doesn’t take long for Thor to get impatient and bang Mjolnir onto the coffee table, rattling it a bit and making Tony sway on his feet and growl, “Hey, watch it!” 

“I apologize,” Thor says immediately, “but you must speak in terms all can understand, Tony Stark!” He tucks Mjolnir back into his belt and looks at Tony expectantly. 

“For the love of – I built you your reindeer tracker, blondie, so now you can stalk your brother to your heart’s content. I did it, and it’s beautiful, the most advanced satellite tech this side of the universe, and I am freaking awesome.”

What follows is just a jumble of noise to Steve, because he has his head and his sketchbook tucked into his arms. Mostly it’s Thor booming joyfully and Bruce asking excited questions and Clint trying to rain on the parade and failing, until Natasha cuts everybody off with the obvious query. “So, then, where is he?” 

Steve looks up, then, and they’ve all got their eyes on Tony, who crosses his arms and smirks. “Last I checked, Hell, Norway – I don’t even know, okay – but could be anywhere right now. The guy is literally globetrotting.” 

“Sure that’s not just your tech gone screwy?” Clint says, and Tony looks at him like he’s just suggested that one plus one equals eleven. “We could configure it to _your_ energy signature, Clint, and then blast you to Tokyo and see if it can’t track you down.”

“Hey,” Steve finds himself saying, because, team leader and all that. He stands up, sketchbook tucked gingerly under one arm. “Why don’t we all just head down to Tony’s workshop and check it out ourselves. The sooner we can get a hold of this guy, the better.” 

Tony makes an indistinct noise, Steve has no idea what it’s supposed to mean, and then turns around and troops for the workshop. They follow and cluster around him as he starts tapping away at one of his screens, and Thor frowns. “So where is it?” 

Tony snorts. “Really, Thor, it’s a satellite, they go up in space? Y’know, where you come from? Bruce,” and the last word is pleading. Bruce smiles thinly and rubs a hand over Tony’s shoulder, and Tony’s expression softens, for just a moment. “Thor,” Bruce says patiently, “you know how the old radar, the one that only goes a hundred miles, is up on the roof for a better signal? Well this one is up a little higher than that, because it sweeps the entire plant, right? But Tony can control it from here, he’ll have the readings in a minute, so just hang tight there, buddy.”

Tony’s screen sparks as the readings come in, and they all crowd in a little closer, and Tony huffs. “A little breathing room, please and thank you?” He frowns and taps at his keyboard, and then Bruce is frowning too. “What is it?” Steve asks, glancing from one to the other.

“There’s no sign of him,” Bruce says, and Tony shoots him a glare, tapping furiously. The screen sparks its lack of a reading again. Clint starts to say something and Natasha elbows him in the ribs, and Thor’s brow knits tightly. “Tony Stark, do you not know the whereabouts of my brother?” 

“No, Thor, it seems I do not, actually,” Tony snaps. Bruce works Tony’s shoulder with one hand, the other joining both of his on the keyboard. Tony sighs. “I don’t – Bruce, you see the calibrations, it’s freaking _working,_ but it’s like he’s gone off the ma – sonofabitch.” 

“What did you just utter?” Thor erupts, and then Steve is getting in between him and Tony, holding Thor back and shooting Tony death glares. For all he’s a genius, Tony is totally incapable of thinking before he speaks, Steve just doesn’t get it. “It’s a figure of speech Thor, Tony didn’t mean anything about your, uh, mother,” Steve says, and what is this, a high school playground? 

“He’s gone,” Tony says, looking like a kid who’s had his toy taken away. “Off the planet. Thor, Loki’s not on Earth anymore.” 

“So he’s back on Asgard?” Clint asks. “Not Asgard. I would have been called back,” Thor says indignantly, though calmer now, and Steve lets go of him. “That is the last place he would go, anyway,” Thor adds.

“So now what?” Steve asks.

“I don’t suppose you could build a satellite to scan across space for him,” Clint smirks, and Tony looks like he’s about to hit him. It should be hilarious that Bruce is the one calming Tony down instead of, you know, having to be calmed himself, but somehow Steve can’t laugh. 

“So who cares where he is if he’s not on earth,” Clint says, shrugging. “Not our planet, not our problem.” 

“Excuse me, Sir Barton,” Thor interjects heatedly, and Clint ducks behind Bruce, and really, he’s putting _Bruce_ between him and an angry demigod? 

Steve’s grateful when Natasha says, “Clint, shut up,” and shoves him out from behind Bruce and away from where they’re all clustered. Bruce, unfazed, comes forward to set a gentle hand over the one Thor has on Mjolnir. “Jarvis,” he says, eyes on Thor, “monitor the satellite, would you, and let us know if and when Loki shows up again. Then we’ll deal with him. Till then, nothing we can do, I’m sorry Thor.”

Thor has that kicked puppy look that he usually gets over anything that has to do with Loki, and Steve almost wants to hug him, or something. “I understand,” Thor says, clapping one hand onto Bruce’s shoulder, the other onto Tony’s. “I thank you for your efforts, friends.” He turns around and drifts out of the workshop.

Natasha trails him and Steve knows she’s going to placate him, knows because he’s been the one with his head in her lap before, listening to her sing softly in Russian, and he knows how soothing it’ll be for Thor. And Clint slinks quietly back to his room to wait for her, and Bruce and Tony are slung peacefully across each other’s shoulders looking at a hologram of the satellite, and the sudden, till now longed-for calm that takes hold of the place bores a strange ache into Steve’s chest.

* 

Tony spends the next couple of days slumped over Bruce on the couch in the common room, monopolizing the widescreen. He alternates between engineering shows and Star Wars, commentating nonstop, and won’t let anyone switch to anything else. Tempers flare, especially when Thor is not-so-politely told to go and watch “The Girl of Gossip” somewhere else. The coffee table doesn’t quite survive. Steve finds the channel for him on the kitchen set and heats up a box of Poptarts to console him.

Bruce finds him in the hallway when he’s headed back for his room. “Hey Cap, everything alright? How’s Thor?”

“He’s fine, I set him up in the kitchen, but – Bruce – how long is Tony going to mope around for? Is this about the satellite?” 

Bruce sifts a hand through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighs. “I’m sorry. He’s ticked that he never got the chance to show it off – well, to demonstrate. He thinks you guys might not believe it actually works, and maybe Clint really doesn’t, I don’t know. And I don’t know if maybe Tony’s beginning to doubt himself – ” he frowns, rubbing at his temple. “No. No, he wouldn’t. Besides, I got a look at the thing and it’s sound.”

“It is pretty odd that Loki suddenly went off the radar like that,” Steve muses, and Bruce shrugs. “Well, I’m tending towards what Clint said. Is that really our problem?”

“Maybe not, but Tony is.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says again. “He’ll get over it, don’t worry. Better just let him be for now. I’m afraid he might actually start trying to make a space-sweeper, and brilliant as he is that is just ridiculous, and if you think this is bad, you do not want to see him after a failed project.”

Something tells Steve that he really doesn’t. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it. This is his tower, after all. Is there anything I can do?”

“Bruuuuce,” Tony whines from the common room. Bruce smiles thinly. “Keep an eye on Thor?”

 “You got it, Doctor.”

Bruce goes back to resume his duties as Tony’s human pillow and Steve wanders into the kitchen. He groans when gets there, because Thor is rumbling at the ceiling again and what is this, Steve thought he was watching his show, can he not sit through commercial breaks anymore? “Jarvis, please, not today,” Steve begs, swinging onto one of the stools and slumping over the island.

“Captain Rogers, I am merely – ” Jarvis starts, then stops abruptly. “Sir?” he calls, voice louder, ringing throughout the floor, and an alarm-like noise can be heard coming from the workshop. Steve straightens up and tenses, apprehensive.

“The energy signature satellite has picked up a reading,” Jarvis announces. “Unit designation Loki has been located.”

*

Tony has a portable version of the hundred-mile radar built into the quinjet so that they can pinpoint Loki’s exact location once they get to Kiev. What exactly Loki is doing in Kiev, no one has a guess, but they’re suited up and ready for whatever comes.

What they find is not exactly threatening. They must look extremely foolish, Steve feels extremely foolish, to be bursting into a bar in the middle of the day in full fighting mode – Tony with his repulsors up, Thor angling Mjolnir, Clint’s bow pulled back, Natasha’s guns at the ready – to find nothing except, well, a bar with a few customers, who promptly freeze and stare at them over their drinks. 

They’d left Bruce with the quinjet, deeming it best he not transform unless absolutely necessary, and Steve’s glad they made that call as he lowers his shield. They all lower their weapons and cautiously eye the man sprawled out, half asleep – half dead? – over a table in the far corner.

Steve doesn’t know what they expected. To find the city on fire? In ruins? Loki standing on a pedestal trying to subjugate the masses? Not wasted at a bar, that’s for certain. Natasha glances at him and, right, team leader. Yeah, he has no idea what they’re supposed to do. Loki isn’t doing anything _wrong_ , but then again, they can’t just turn around and walk away from a potential threat and – okay, and what is Thor doing. Thor is going over to him. He’s heaving Loki up from his seat and he’s hugging him, right, is that what they’re going to do then?

Tony steps forward and Clint tilts up his bow, but Natasha lays hands on both their arms and gives Clint a look. “Hang on for a minute,” she says, low, and Steve finds himself nodding in agreement.

A minute is really all it turns out to be. Loki jolts awake, still looking half-dead, and takes in his brother and the Avengers in one glance. Then he’s gone. 

Disappeared into thin air, leaving the customers gawking and Thor groping at a faint flash of green that quickly melts away, and as far as Steve’s concerned that’s their cue to get out of there too. He tries to usher the team out as inconspicuously as possible, which is not very, and not before Tony procures a bottle of the bar’s finest scotch. 

Bruce asks what happened and Steve doesn’t quite know what to say. Not that it matters, because Tony, buzzed on scotch, doesn’t need prompting. “We found psycho-god totally wasted, ’Tasha wouldn’t let us shoot and he pulled a disappearing act when Thor tried to hug him. Jarvis, got a reading on the bugger or is he off to subjugate Pluto? Which, by the way, I would not object to. Cocky hunk of rock, pretending to be a planet when it actually wasn’t. Needs to be taken down a couple of pegs.”

“Hey, Pluto has every right to be a planet,” Clint says, grabbing Tony’s bottle and taking a swig, and really, are they really having this conversation right now? Steve starts to say something when Clint turns to Natasha. “Poor guy didn’t even complete one full turn around the sun before they stripped away his – his – planetcy, did you know that?” He stares down the neck of the bottle, then scowls at Tony. “Do not diss Pluto.”

“First of all, my scotch, gimme.” Tony grabs it back and Clint’s scowl deepens. “Second of all, scientifically speaking – ”

“Look, enough,” Steve cuts in, because no, they are not going to do this. He snatches the bottle away from Tony. “Do you guys even hear what comes out of your mouths? No, don’t answer that,” as Tony starts to say something. “We’ve kinda got a situation on our hands. Jarvis? Loki still on the planet?” He glances at the ceiling and Thor looks up from where he’s been sitting quietly in a corner, expectant.

“Affirmative. Loki’s energy signature has turned up in Barrow, Alaska. Altering quinjet course.”

“Okay. Right.” Steve drops down into a seat and pulls off his cowl. Honestly speaking he’s not too sure they should be tailing Loki, not when he’s not even doing anything wrong and certainly not if he’s going to be leading them on a wild goose chase across the globe – damn teleportation. But one glance in Thor’s direction is enough to keep him from saying anything.

At least the quinjet is ridiculously fast.

They pinpoint his location in Barrow and it’s not, as Tony’d hoped, another bar. It’s not anything, actually. Loki is just lying on his back in the middle of an empty stretch of snow, pale as a ghost and almost as lifeless. Still, he manages to disappear as soon as Thor lunges at him, at which point Steve thinks he can’t be the only one getting fed up here. “Guys, how long are we going to keep doing this?” he asks as they trudge back to the quinjet. “We can’t just keep hopping from one end of the world to another, and he’s not posing any immediate threat –”  

“Which could change at any moment, Cap. We don’t know what he may do next, or what he may be planning,” Natasha cuts in. 

“Sorry, did you see the guy?” Clint says. “He looked like he could barely move, I don’t think he’s going to be leveling cities anytime soon.”

“Yet he’s still able to teleport across massive distances,” Tony points out. “And then, if he really is worn out, well shouldn’t we take advantage of that? Might be our best shot at getting a hold of him.”

“Because that’s been working out, so well.” Clint again. 

“If Thor could just calm down for, I don’t know, a second to give us a chance,” Tony starts, but he doesn’t go any further than that, and they all kind of sigh at the mention of Thor. He’s walking a few strides ahead of them, head bent and Mjolnir hanging limp from one hand. No one says what Steve knows they’re all thinking: that if it weren’t for Thor they probably wouldn’t be here at all. 

In the end they don’t have to decide whether or not to keep up the chase because Jarvis lets them know, as soon as they’re back on the quinjet, that Loki is off the map again. Steve is mostly relieved as Natasha steers them back home. 

* 

When the Avengers get back to the tower they’re welcomed by a Fury who is hell-bent on living up to his name. Coulson is with him, shooting death glares at them all and mumbling about _the paperwork I will have to do, so much damn paperwork, do you people have any idea?_

Steve feels culpable for not checking with their director before they’d headed out, since he’s supposedly team leader. But he’d wanted to get this over with and it really hadn’t occurred to him. Nor to any of them, Bruce insists to the livid director. 

But then what is the point of being team leader if he can’t make a few calls on his own? It shouldn’t be that big a deal that they went on a mission without consulting SHIELD first. Tony argues vehemently on this.

The rest of the team isn’t to blame, not as much as Steve, because how were they to know that their leader had neglected to check in with SHIELD first? That isn’t _their_ concern the way it is Steve’s. Clint protests that he’d really thought Steve had taken care of it. 

All they really did anyway was touch down in a couple of cities and take a look around. Nothing had happened. No fighting, no action, no casualties, living or otherwise. Thor doesn’t understand what Fury is actually upset about in the first place. 

It’s Natasha who cuts them all off with an impatient flick of her hair. “Everybody’s right,” she says. “Except for Clint.”

“Hey!” Clint gawks, and she just gives him this look that seems to shut him up, before continuing. “Yes, the mission wasn’t a big deal, but it could have turned into one, which is why Fury has a right to be upset that we didn’t check with SHIELD first. That’s our duty anyway. And not just Steve’s, because we’re a team. Maybe as leader he should’ve been more attentive, but as Bruce points out we were all kind of distracted. That said, seeing as nothing serious – well, nothing at all – happened, sir,” and she looks straight at Fury, “Let’s just move on from this. And also, acknowledge the fact that Steve, and we as a team, should have the right to take things into our own hands on occasion. Debriefings can always follow.”

“SHIELD understands taking things into your own hands in emergency situations, Miss Romanov, but as far as I can tell this was not an emergency situation!” 

Steve’s head is starting to ache. Badly. “Look, I take full respons –  ow!” He breaks off as someone flicks him across said throbbing head.

Tony turns his bored gaze on Fury. “Uh, sorry, it actually kinda was an emergency. Seeing as physcho-god had gone off the map when we’d tried to track him down, naturally we took off as soon as he came back on the radar. There really wasn’t time to ask mommy if we could go play.”

“And why was SHIELD not informed that you were trying to track him down in the first place?”

“Uhm, my satellite, I do what I want with it?”

Fury looks like he’s about to break something, which is not good, for one thing because it’s enough having one person destroying furniture around here, Thor has made them replace this table three times already. Steve decides this has gone on long enough. And he’s really sick of people breaking things. “Fury’s right, we should be keeping SHIELD more up to date, which we will in the future,” he says, standing up. “I also take full responsibility for this and ask that it be allowed to pass seeing as nothing happened. We’re sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.”

“There is no such thing as letting it pass, Captain. There will be reports filed. And debriefings. And all of you will cooperate. Do I make myself clear?”

“And so. Much. Paperwork,” Coulson groans. Thor claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. “I am deeply sorry, Son of Coul.”

When Fury and Coulson are gone Thor apologizes to them as well. “I know you all came on this excursion for my sake, and for that I thank you, and ask your pardon for having made the director thus upset. I’ll no longer tire you with my hapless aspirations concerning my brother. Tis clear, after all, that he has no wish to see me.” And then he drags himself out of the room without waiting for any response, and for all Steve had been unhappy about the mission before, right now he just feels even worse.

*

The sirens ring long and loud throughout the tower, shaking Steve out of sleep and then bed, literally; he thumps to the floor in a tangle of sheets, the shrills of Tony’s various warning systems ringing through his head and he doesn’t understand why there are so many. 

Tony explains, over the comm as they’re racing into their suits, that Loki’s break-in has set off each of the global satellite set to track him, the hundred-mile radar on top of the tower, the detector set to pick up his presence in the tower itself, as well as the alarm for general security breaches. Clint tells him that that is just stupid, he should have the first two programmed not to go off if the third one is activated, to which Tony retorts that that doesn’t make any sense because normally, the first two would have preceded the third as Loki approached the tower, giving them warning; it was the teleportation thing that beat the system. Clint scoffs that it’s not like Tony didn’t know about the teleportation thing in the first place, at which point Natasha tells them both to shut up and Steve wants to hug her.

But there’s no time for that because there is a super villain in their home and that is just wrong, for one thing because this is _Tony Stark’s tower_ and his security systems are tighter than those of the White House. Break-ins are just not supposed to happen, as Clint gripes over the comm. Tony snarls back, “Freaking magic.” And then Bruce’s calm voice is cutting in. “Clint, shove an arrow it. Tony, I can hear your brain trying to come up with magic impervious tech, okay, no. Let’s focus on frying physcho-god ass right now and I promise to hash out sci-occult theory with you later.”

“Ah, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Tony says, and the comm crackles with the sound of Clint gagging. Steve tells Bruce to keep the Hulk on stand-by unless they absolutely need him, then tells everyone else to shut up and move. 

Loki’s on the helipad on top of the tower and Thor’s already up there by the time the rest of them catch up. They’re not fighting. Loki has his scepter pointed warningly at Thor, who has Mjolnir raised mainly in reaction, because he’s trying to talk Loki down and yeah, he would. That’s not the surprising part, the surprising part is that Loki is letting him. Well, okay, he isn’t really listening but he’s not attacking Thor either.

“Save your children’s tales, I did not come here for you,” Loki is snarling at his brother as Steve, Tony, Clint and Natasha close in on them, and Steve wonders what or who it is he did come for, just as Loki’s eyes fall on Tony and Tony blasts him with his right repulsor. 

Thor half-lunges to get in between them and then falls back, uncertain, and Steve kind of feels bad for him because _Loki still hasn’t done anything wrong._ He broke in, yes, but he hasn’t attacked. Which is just weird, and Steve feels confused, and also pretty useless because he’s just standing there as Tony clearly does not need anyone’s help, with Loki barely able to keep his footing and counter the repulsor blasts. 

Then Steve notices that Tony isn’t much trying to dodge the sparks of blue and green light that Loki is hurling at him. He’s actually deliberately taking the hits, and while none of it is doing more than making him reel back a few steps _why_ would he be practically diving into them. For a second Steve thinks Loki might have gotten some kind of spell over him. And then Tony says, “Jarvis, run diagnostics on this hocus-pocus, stat – and – uh! – see if you can maybe try to retain some of it? The suit’s starting to – argh! – really feel it.”

Steve doesn’t know if Jarvis has the chance to get on it, because just as he’s affirming Tony’s request Loki lowers his scepter abruptly, blue energy fizzling out of it just as the green dies away from his fingertips. He hurls himself out of the way of Tony’s repulsor blast, putting Thor between them. Clint’s bow and Natasha’s guns go up as they all catch Thor’s split-second falter but Steve beats them both. He lunges at Loki, crunching his shield into the sorcerer’s skull before the world suddenly starts spinning around him, dragging up a whirlwind of light and noise and then nothing. 

*

The ice is flat and smooth and gleaming, so much so that it might be mistaken for a sheet of glass but for its freezing cold that is only too discernable against Steve’s body. The cold cuts into him and sends a violent shudder coursing through to his bones, jerking him back into panicked consciousness. He clatters to the ground and the ground is ice too. He fumbles over it, chest pounding. Memories of being swallowed by frozen water and pulverizing cold crowd his skull.

“Be still,” a tired voice says to him. A pale, frail hand materializes on Steve’s shoulder and the particles of the air start to glow and morph until they become Loki. Loki’s head is bent into his chest and he drags it up as if it’s made of lead. He heaves up the hand that isn’t on Steve’s shoulder, its fingers carefully curled around the scepter. All of this slowly, painstakingly, and all Steve can do is watch him and shiver. “Be – still,” Loki repeats, and he trembles himself. His head falls into his chest again like it’s too heavy for him to hold up. He rolls his eyes up in their sunken sockets to look at Steve. “Make things – easier – for the both of us – stop shaking, now,” Loki says in hoarse, labored whispers. Steve tries. He doesn’t know or care why he is listening to Loki, he just wants for the ice to loose its encroaching hold on him and for this to end.

He fights against the numbness gripping his mind and focuses on holding himself still for a few seconds, so that Loki can press the scepter to his heart.

*

It’s easier for Steve to calm down when Loki next tells him to do it. It’s still bad, but something in him makes him trust that the ice will not hurt him because Loki says it won’t. He stops shaking. “What is this place?” 

“Hel,” Loki says wearily. He’s on the ground next to Steve, sitting up but barely moving.

“Excuse me?” 

“Helhiem?” Loki supplies. Steve stares at him blankly. “Land of the dead.” Loki presses a limp hand to his head. 

“Oh.” Steve pauses. “Are we dead then?”

Loki rolls his eyes up to the icicled ceiling. “No. I just like it here.” 

Steve considers this for a moment. “I thought Hell was supposed to be fire, not ice.”

“Yes, well. You humans have everything backwards.”

Steve hangs his head, kind of feeling like he should take responsibility for this shortcoming on the part of the human race. He vaguely feels like he should be more shocked that they are actually in Hell, that Hell is an actual place that they can come and go to, but the lightness of Loki’s tone when he’d said it tells Steve that he should take it lightly too.

Loki’s voice floats back towards him. “It’s because of your incident? Flying that plane into the water?”

“What?” Steve asks. He does not want to think about that. He’s trying his best not to think about that. 

“Why you’re so distressed by the ice.”

“Oh. Yes.” Steve huddles into himself, feeling guilty again, feeling weak. Loki frowns. “I should not have brought you here.”

“Why did you?” Steve asks. His teeth chatter faintly.

“I did not _intend_ to,” Loki gripes. “You got caught in my teleportation spell. I certainly did not want that. It was all I could do to sustain it.”

Steve’s guilt mounts. “You look exhausted,” he says timidly.

“Precisely.” Loki lets his head fall back against the ice and he sighs. “I do not think I could teleport us again. Just yet.”

“So don’t!” Steve offers up eagerly. Loki glances at him askance. “You would not last. And you are of no use to me dead. Or incoherent.”

“I’ll make it,” Steve insists. He hugs himself tighter. His teeth chatter harder. “Long enough for you to get some rest.” 

Loki looks ahead of him again, considering. Then he lifts both hands. Steve watches as wisps of green lights snake from his fingertips and weave into a thick blanket. He gives it to Steve and it seems to radiate warmth. “Can you make do with that?” 

Steve nods eagerly, wrapping himself into the voluminous folds. Loki looks completely spent, like conjuring the blanket had taken all the strength he had left. It’s all he can do to stumble to his feet. Sharp stabs of guilt and gratitude tug at Steve’s chest. He watches Loki strip off armor and leather until his torso is bare, then lay himself down on the sheet of ice Steve had fallen off of. His skin presses gratefully to the freezing surface. His eyelids look so frail, but so heavy. He closes them and doesn’t move for a while. 

Loki sleeps for a long time. Steve just sits there. He’s warm enough inside the blanket, hardly even shivering. He doesn’t think about the ice too much. Sometimes he sleeps as well. It must be days, he doesn’t really think about it, before Loki lifts his cheek slightly from the ice. He looks around with wide eyes and blinks like a newborn.

Steve watches him intently. When Loki catches sight of him his brows draw together in a small, confused peak.

“Ah,” he says then.

Loki sits up, pushing his long, unkempt hair back, again and again. He smoothes it down, bunches it into a thick ponytail circled by his fist, opens his hand and lets it fall back over his shoulders. Then he glances back at Steve. “Now what shall I do with you.”

“Get me out of here?” Steve suggests wanly. He’s held out well enough, but he’d really like to be somewhere not frozen right now.

“Aha.” Loki starts to reach for his armor. “Alfheim, I think. It’s warm there.”

“Why not back to Earth?”

“It seems I cannot go there undetected anymore. As I think you know.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, sorry. Alfheim – is that the place you come from?”

“No. I cannot go back to Asgard.”

“I meant – I didn’t mean Asgard. The place you really come from?”

Loki stiffens. “You really ask a lot of questions, Captain.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says quickly. Loki straps on the last of his armor. “Anyway, Jotunheim is nigh as icy as Hel, it would not be a good idea to take you there either.”

Right. Frost giant, and all that. Steve remembers Thor telling them about it, vaguely because he usually tries to channel out whatever Thor is babbling about, but it comes back to him now. And, wow. It seems like a lifetime ago that he was living with the Avengers – was he ever really?

Loki picks up his scepter. “Get up. Take hold of my arm and do not let go.”

* 

Steve doesn’t realize at first what he is doing or why, only that it’s the right thing to do, an affirmation that grows stronger in him by the moment. His hands tighten around Loki’s throat and he’s certainly gotten the other man by surprise, or Loki would have disappeared through his fingertips the way he’s always doing with Thor. But Loki happens to have his scepter in hand and he manages to push it at Steve’s heart again. Steve lets go of him abruptly. His eyes cloud over along with his mind and he goes blank for a moment, then devotion to the harried man in front of him floods through him again. 

“What in the Nine was that,” Loki mutters, rubbing at his throat. He narrows his eyes and sits down on one of the strange stone chairs in the underground lair of sorts they’re currently occupying in Alfheim. They’ve been here only a few hours prior to Steve’s – lapse? Is that what he would call it?

“Sir?” Steve ventures. Loki blinks at him, then waves an annoyed hand in his face. “Just Loki.” 

“Loki,” Steve repeats. “I don’t know – what to say?”

“I’ve a theory or two,” Loki says brusquely. “Nevermind, now.” He sits down tiredly, dropping his cheek into his hand. “Tell me how the Avengers are tracking my location on Earth.”

Steve tells him everything he knows, which is not much. “I mean, I don’t know how the satellite works or anything – just that it’s in space and that it’s calibrated to your specific energy signature.”

“Energy signature,” Loki repeats. “Not my magic.”

“No. When you broke into the tower that day Tony was upset because he hadn’t found a way to block or detect your magic. He was trying to scan it though, when you were fighting him. Just before we left.”

“Yes,” Loki says, combing long fingers back through his hair. “I recall.” He stands up, glancing around for his helm. “What are we going to do?” Steve asks, rising as well.

“You are going to stay here.” Loki pauses for a moment, tilting his head slightly to one side. “And I am going to have to tie you up.”

* 

Steve submits cheerfully to being bound by his arms and ankles to one of the odd stone chairs. Then he cheerfully sits there. A day goes by, and another. He’s hungry but otherwise untroubled. On the third day he starts to grow restless. Flashes of memory from his life with the Avengers begin to spark unbidden through his mind, fleeting at first and then more substantial. Random, inconsequential banter at the tower, back to various scenes from the Helicarrier, forward to saving Manhattan from an alien army. Forward again to globetrotting after Loki in the quinjet, to Loki invading the tower, to crashing head-on into Loki, Loki teleporting him away from Earth, so much ice, the scepter – 

And it’s not that he’d forgotten any of this, not at all, but he’s seeing it in a different light now. An older light, one that grows stronger by the moment and pushes out the new one imparted in him by that blasted scepter.

The magic wears off completely. Steve rages internally. His hands ache to circle Loki’s throat again, to tear him limb from limb from limb from limb, to tie _him_ up and addle _his_ brains and mess him around until he’s clueless as to his own name, let alone his allegiances. But the restraints hold fast. Steve pulls and strains and sweats and he just cannot get free. The bastard knew what he was doing.

He’s still wrenching at his bounds when Loki materializes again, looking unsurprised. “Right on schedule,” he murmurs, sounding as if he’s confirming a suspicion. “You sick-minded moron, get these things off of me and face me like a man,” Steve hurls at him. 

Loki laughs. He actually laughs. Steve is going to lose it, he knows he is. “Like a man,” Loki repeats, smile wide. “You say that as if I should be ashamed not to be one. Tell me, Captain, what god strives to degrade himself to that level?”

“You call yourself a god, yet you need to keep me tied up?”

“I call myself a god because I can keep you tied up. Your superserum won’t get you out of _these_ bounds.”

“My – what?” What does the superserum have to do with anything, and why does Loki sound so pointed?

“Surely, you must have wondered why it is that the scepter’s magic only lasts a few days with you before wearing off.”

 Not really, no. Steve hasn’t wondered. “Must be defective magic.”

“ _That_ is the best you can come up with?”

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t seem to be doing much damage to Tony when you were fighting him.” Loki’s expression curdles. “I was weakened,” he snarls. “In part because that stupid satellite was forcing me to teleport so much. I wasn’t in shape to fight, nor did I come there to do so.”

“Then why did you come?” 

“I thought that was obvious,” Loki sighs, and he disappears. 

Steve swears loudly at the ceiling and pulls at his restraints. What the hell are these things made of, anyway? The material seemed supple enough when it was winding itself around his limbs yet now he can’t get it to give even the tiniest bit, as if it’s hardened into firmest iron. He grits his teeth and wonders how long the lunatic will be gone for this time.

Around an hour, as it turns out, at least by Steve’s reckoning. Loki reappears carrying a brown sack that he tosses onto the table in front of Steve. Steve lifts an eyebrow. “And what is this?”

“You can move your arms enough to feed yourself, yes? Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait!” Steve finds himself calling out before Loki can vanish again. Loki turns back to him, rolling his eyes. “Far be it from me to sink to _poison_ as a murder method. Will that be all? I’ve places to be.”

“Where?” Steve demands. “Where do you go all the time?”

Loki blinks. “I would tell you – why?”

Steve doesn’t have an answer for that. And then, he starts wondering why he even asked at all. Who even cares what Loki is up to? Steve shouldn’t. He _doesn’t_. He would if it were a threat to Earth, but it’s not. Tony’s satellite is keeping Loki away from the planet, for one thing, and he wasn’t really up to anything before the satellite drove him out, for another. Yes, Steve has a strong urge to gouge Loki’s eyes out, but there are more important things he should be focusing on right now. Like, say, getting home. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, fine. None of my business.” He breathes in, out. “So tell me what you plan on doing with me, then.”

“Recall, it was not my intent to bring you along at all.” Loki sounds bored, impatient. Steve tries to keep his voice calm. “So take me back.”

“I can’t very well do _that.”_

“You can,” Steve says slowly. “I – I’ll make sure no one comes near you. You just take me back, and then you can go free.”

“Oh, Captain,” Loki sighs. “Much as I would like to believe you, I don’t. Even if I did, you cannot vouch for your friends, who will be seething at me more and more with every day of your absence. In any case, I may need to make use of you yet.”

“Make use of me?” Steve yells out. “You mean use your pathetic mind-control trick again? Listen, you – ” and then Loki is gone. Steve’s words evaporate and he fumes, shaking now in his bounds and dripping sweat. He can’t let Loki put him through that again – he just can’t.

* 

Loki is drenched in blood and gushing more of it. His body is peppered with wounds but namely the long gash along his thigh from which some sort of curved blade is still protruding. When he materializes a few feet away from where Steve is sitting the stone ground instantly pools with his blood.

Loki coughs and gurgles and spits up blood. His eyelids tremble and then sink. “Stay awake,” Steve whispers. Then he calls out. “Loki! Listen to me, stay awake. I can help you.” 

His voice seems to register with Loki, whose head lolls to the side to look at him. Steve tugs at his bounds for the umpteenth time though he knows it won’t do any good. “Loki, stay with me. Listen. See if you can get these off of me and I’ll help you.”

Loki’s head rolls to the other side, then back so that he’s staring at Steve again. His eyes are glazed and barely focused. “Stay with me,” Steve repeats. He takes a deep breath. “Listen. I need you. You’re my only ticket out of here and I need to get back home. I’ll help you in exchange for that. I’ll help you with this and then with whatever else you need, without you having to put your spell over me again.” Steve’s had enough time to think, during Loki’s absence, and he’d arrived at this a while ago and has been waiting ever since for Loki to get back. For Loki to show up looking like _this_ is certainly a surprise, but Steve quickly realizes that it means Loki won’t have much choice but to listen to him. 

Steve speaks quickly. “The spell lasted, what, four days the first time? The second time it was barely two and a half. My superserum builds an immunity, right, so it’ll wear off even faster the next time. But you won’t need it because I’ll help you myself. Wherever you’re going, whatever you’re trying to get done, you obviously need help and I’ll do it, in exchange for taking me home. I’m a man of my word, Loki. Come on now.” He reaches out with one hand, as far as the restraints will allow. “Let me loose and tell me what to do.”

Loki shuts his eyes and drops the scepter that his bloody fingers are still curled around. He lifts both hands and clenches his teeth. Steve watches the tension flood his already colorless face as he strains to undo the bounds that he’d previously procured with the easiest flick of one wrist. It seems to take just about everything out of him now. But it works. The cords start to loosen and then unfurl, slowly, until they fall to the ground and Steve is free. 

A small, rough gasp slips from Loki’s mouth and he collapses into the pool of his blood. Steve grabs the skin of water that’s on the table and rushes over to him without a second thought. “Loki, wake up,” he says, taking the other man’s head in his hands. He splashes water onto Loki’s face and watches him blink feebly. “Hey, stay with me.” He blocks everything else from his mind, any misgivings about the fact that he is helping Loki, and pulls his shirt off over his head to dab at the blood caked over Loki’s lips.  “Loki. I’m here. Tell me what to do.”

*

It seems strange to Steve to think that the frail creature he spent the past two hours tending, and who is now trembling in his sleep on the slab of ice he’d managed to procure with the very last of his strength just before collapsing onto it, is an enemy. He closes his eyes and thinks of the mind control again, trying to summon back all the rage that had filled him. When he opens them he notices that one of his hands is stroking over Loki’s hair.

Steve pulls his hand back and folds it over the other one in his lap. But he stops thinking about the mind control and his thoughts run back over the past few hours. He thinks of Loki’s bone-thin fingers underneath his own strong grip as he’d guided them over Loki’s wounds, Loki muttering things to help them heal. In his head he hears Loki’s rasped voice, instructing him in broken phrases on how to use the scepter to get the strange blade out of his leg. It hadn’t so much as budged when Steve first tried to tug it out with both hands. And the gash had bled so terribly when the blade finally did come out. Steve had wanted to throw it out, but Loki had asked him to clean it and set it aside. Now it’s lying on the table and Steve’s avoiding looking at it.

He thinks of Loki’s lips, blood-red against his ghostly skin even after they were clean of blood, quivering as Steve stripped him of his shredded clothes and rubbed his own damp shirt over Loki’s skin. Loki’s fingers had curled into the fabric for a brief moment and his crimson lips had opened a little wider as if to speak, but the only sound that came was his hot, heavy breathing.

He’s breathing easier now. He looks almost peaceful, asleep on his slab of ice, but for the trembling and the worried peak of his brows. Steve hates to wake him but Loki had asked him, urgently, to rouse him after he’d gotten a few hours’ rest.

“Loki,” Steve says gently, placing a firm hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder. He shakes him a little and Loki’s eyelids sweep up to reveal wide eyes. “Hey. Sorry. You asked me to wake you, right?”

Loki presses a palm to his forehead. “Yes, I – I’ve not much time to waste.” He stares up the ceiling. “Your offer – it still stands?”

“Yes,” Steve says immediately. “If you give me your word that you’ll take me home afterwards, you can have my assistance.”

“You speak – so – assuredly, Captain,” Loki says, speaking carefully himself. “What if it were something dangerous, or something – well, villainous that I asked you to do?”

“I’m not afraid of danger,” Steve says firmly. “As for the second part, well, I considered that, and of course, I won’t help with any evil plots. But I don’t think that’s what you’re up to.”

“Then what I am up to – do you think?”

“I think you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, and now you’re trying to get out of it.”

Loki stares at him for a long moment. “Well. Something along those lines.” He sits up on his block of ice, hand still pressed to his head, and leans back against the stone wall. 

“Loki,” Steve says slowly. “Can I ask you something?” Loki doesn’t answer, so he continues. “The ice,” and he gestures to it, “it helps you regain your strength, right?”

A pause, and then, “It does.”

“So why did you teleport back here, after your fight? Why not back to Jotunheim or Hel – Helheim? Wouldn’t it have helped to be somewhere – frozen? Like before?”

“You helped,” Loki says shortly, and this catches Steve by surprise. “You didn’t know that I would.” 

“No,” Loki agrees. Steve waits, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Sleeping on ice is a nightmare for me,” Steve says after a moment.

“Well. Monsters are the stuff of nightmares, are we not.”

“Monsters?”

“Frost giants are monsters. It’s what I was taught my entire life, what I grew to believe. Only to find out, then, that I am one.” He lets out a short, hard laugh. “So one may as well play the part.”

“ _Play the part?”_ Steve repeats. “Is that what all of – the whole thing with taking over Earth – was about playing the part? You just figured that being a frost giant meant that you had to be a monster?”

Loki gives him a long look, then slumps back onto his slab of ice. He brings his arms around the edges to wrap around it. “First unwanted on Jotunheim, then cast out of Asgard, left to hurtle through space and end up on whatever godsforsaken hunk of planet I would. I didn’t _figure_ anything.” He presses his cheek into the ice and closes his eyes.

Steve suddenly remembers the time when, not long after he’d moved into Tony’s tower with the rest of the Avengers, he’d taken a trip back to Brooklyn meaning to find a bookstore he used to know. But Brooklyn hadn’t been like this in the forties. He’d thought of being in the car with Peggy, pointing out all the familiar streets and corners to her as they’d driven through the city he knew like the back of his hand. Seventy years later, there he was completely lost on those same streets.

Clint had found him and Natasha had held him. Bruce had made him a cup of tea when they’d gotten back to the tower. Steve doesn’t know if Loki likes tea, but he gets the sudden urge to reach out to him. “It sucks not having anywhere to belong,” he says. “I know something about that.”

“Your world hasn’t cast you out, though it has changed,” Loki says into his ice. “You still belong there. To be out of your time is a greater mercy than being completely bereft of a place to be.”

Steve does reach out to him this time, softly to touch his cheek. Loki keeps very still – as if afraid Steve’s hand will disappear if he moves? Steve comes closer, kneeling down in front of the ice block. “It was a relief, actually,” Loki whispers. “To be rid of the whole Earth venture.” He pauses, and Steve’s hand moves up into his hair. “That is, apart from the fact that I was going to be killed for it.”

“For not delivering the tesseract?” Steve is stroking now, and he can hear the concern in his own voice. Loki goes on quietly. “Yes. They had promised to torture me, eventually to kill me, if I failed to deliver. But I talked my way out of that.” He says it as if talking his way out of death at the hands of alien monsters is a routine thing. But maybe it is, if you’re Loki. “You did?” Steve’s voice is quiet, too, and also impressed. 

“At first I was on the run from them. Going from world to world – it was exhausting. Sometimes, discreetly, I stayed on Earth. They’re wary of Earth now. That made it a good option.”

“You stayed in cold places,” Steve recalls. Ukriane, Alaska – the freezing town of Hell in Norway. Steve can’t help but smile at realization.     

“Yes. Until Stark’s satellite put an end to that.”

“Is that why you showed up at the tower?” 

“I wanted to find out how I was being tracked. When things didn’t go according to plan, I decided I couldn’t hide forever. So when I left you here I went to find them.”

Steve brings his other hand up to find Loki’s; it’s shaking slightly. “And persuaded them not to kill you?”

“It wasn’t difficult. Killing me would not gain them the tesseract or anything else. I could not promise them the tesseract again but I told them to ask for something else in exchange for my freedom.” He stares down at their entwined hands.

“And they accepted?” Steve prompts him on, wishing Loki wouldn’t keep pausing in the story.

“Fortunately there are several things for which a load of lumpish brutes can have need of someone with my stealth.”

“Like?” 

“A – a rescue mission. One of their own, on another world in a fortress, heavily protected with magic. They need me to break in and get him out.”

“Is that where you were last?” Steve asks, huddling closer. His thumb grazes over a cut on Loki’s cheek. “Is that how all this happened to you?”  

“Yes. I hadn’t realized that I can’t teleport to get into the fortress. This is where I require your assistance.”

“Tell me what you need,” Steve says immediately. Loki sits up, their hands still linked. “A diversion.”

*

The world they’d teleported to was hot, barren and intrinsically abhorrent. The ground was red dirt and dust under their feet. As they’d walked Steve had felt chills despite the heat, and the heat had been suffocating, and the whole atmosphere of the place had made his insides churn. He would have taken the ice. “Who exactly are these people?” he’d asked. Loki had strode ahead of him, moving quickly despite how frail he still was. “The less you know, the better. And I wouldn’t call them people.” He’d been carrying the blade that had been in his leg less than twelve hours earlier. Steve had had the scepter. “I think I have a right to know since I’m getting myself into this.” Loki had paused, then, and turned to him. “Captain, I wish that I myself knew nothing of this world or those that inhabit it. Let’s just get this over with.”

Thinking back, Steve is glad he hadn’t pushed Loki to talk. And grateful to Loki for thinking to spare him. Little as he does know and little as he’s seen, he’s trying his best not to remember anything. They’re back in the Alfheim lair now, both a little worse for wear. But it’s mission accomplished and Steve is flooded with relief.

He doesn’t even worry that Loki won’t uphold his end of the bargain. He’s only sorry to be leaving Loki behind.

“Where will you go?” Steve asks, when Loki asks him if he’s ready. The other man shrugs. “Planet-trotting until I find somewhere I can stay?” He pauses. “There’s always Hel, no one minds me there.” 

Steve cringes inwardly at Loki’s words. That sentence was just so completely wrong. “Come back with me,” he says before he can think twice. “Come and stay on Earth.” Loki stares at him and his brow is doing that thing again where it goes into a small peak. He looks so piteous when he does that. “Which is it, stay on Earth or stay with you on Earth?”

Steve doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to, and Loki smiles. “I don’t think the Avengers would take very kindly to that.”

“You’re not who they think you are,” Steve says, gritting his teeth and grabbing Loki by the arm. “Not a monster?” Loki says, still smiling. Steve wants to rub that smile right off of his face. “ _No,”_ he practically yells. “It doesn’t matter that you were born a frost giant. I was born a shrimp. I was told I could never be a soldier, but I didn’t let that stop me from doing what I believed in.”

“But there is no superserum for me, Captain. I cannot change what I am.”

Steve wrenches Loki’s arm back to pull him in so that they’re chin to chin. “It’s not about what you are. It’s about what’s inside you. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been any superserum for me either.”

When Loki doesn’t say anything, Steve holds his breath. “You’ll be safe on Earth. Like you said, other worlds are wary of us now. I’ll handle the Avengers. And think how happy Thor will be.”

“Steve, I cannot – ” Loki starts, and Steve leans in to kiss him, and then they’re both yanked out of the air and everything spins, and turns, then stops. 

They clatter to the ground in what Steve quickly recognizes is the Avengers common room, planet Earth. 

He looks at Loki. “You called me Steve.”

Loki is looking around the room. “No alarms,” he points out. 

“Loki,” Steve says, and Loki still doesn’t turn to him. “There are supposed to be about forty alarms, aren’t there?” He stands up, looking pleased with himself. Steve gets to his feet as well. _“Loki.”_

“I’ve concealed our energy signatures, you see,” Loki explains. 

“I don’t _care_ ,” Steve almost yells, grabbing him by the arm. He pulls Loki to him and crushes their mouths together. 

Eventually they topple onto the couch and break apart for air. “Sorry it’s no ice block,” Steve breathes out. “It’ll do,” Loki murmurs, maneuvering them so that he’s on top. He drops his open mouth onto Steve’s neck and his hands go under Steve’s shirt. Steve is breathing in sharp gasps now. He tugs frustratedly at Loki’s armor, trying to get in past all the leather and metal to find his skin.

“Oh,” Loki says when Steve gets a hand into his pants, dragging his lips off of Steve’s neck to get the word out.

The alarms go off. 

“I thou – thought you’d concealed – ?” Steve pants out. “I lost my focus,” Loki frowns, as the room fills with Avengers in various stages of wakefulness.

The worst part is that Loki keeps right on going at Steve’s neck while everybody is gawking at them. Jane is there too, half hiding behind Thor, her hand lost in his enormous grip. “Oh my God,” Clint yelps out, and that’s when Loki looks up. “Yes?” 

Steve flicks him across the head and Loki smiles. “Okay, eww, what the hell Steve?” Tony yells. “That’s my couch, fuck, get off. We demand answers, but first you get off, I will not have people fooling around on my coach.”

“Uh, Tony, you know we already – ” Bruce starts, and Tony groans and cuts him off. “Well, except for when it involves me, obviously,” he snaps. Clint and Natasha look at each other then at him. “Oh, for the love of – Thor, you better not have – okay, I don’t even want to know.” Tony turns back to the couch. Steve is sitting up now, Loki leaning back into his chest with his hands clasped and eyes wide with mock intent. Steve resists the urge to pull his head back and resume kissing him.

“Explain yourself,” Tony orders. 

“Would you shut these damn sirens off first?” 

“Also, why are they all going off at once, I thought we’d talked about this,” Clint says, and that, that makes Steve grin, his chest swelling with the realization of how much he’s missed everyone.

“Shut it, Barton. Jarvis, kill the alarms. Steve, really, what?”

“Gee, it’s great to know you’re all glad to see me,” Steve says as the ringing dies away. He wonders at the fact that Thor’s been strangely quiet. “So, the thing is – ” he starts, then realizes he has no idea what to say. Loki looks up at him, and his perpetually pale cheeks are actually flushed and he looks so damn gorgeous, Steve has to try really hard to remember what he’s talking about. “The thing is,” he starts again, staring into the wide green of Loki’s eyes. “Okay, well, a lot of stuff’s happened but that’s all details, point is I’m keeping Loki. Promise he’ll behave. ’Kay?”

“I approve,” Thor booms out, and he lets go of Jane’s hand and dashes to the couch to wrap Steve and Loki into an enormous hug. “Brother, words cannot express the gladness I feel at this news!” 

“Uh, hello, maybe somebody needs to be asking me if psycho-god can move into my tower?” Tony calls out. Thor doesn’t seem to hear him. Bruce is rubbing one hand over his temple, and he reaches for Tony with the other. “I don’t think we have much of a choice, because, well, Thor.”

“Not you too,” Tony groans, turning to him. “Bruce, can’t you see that there is something terribly wrong here?” 

“Maybe Steve’s mind-controlled,” Clint says suspiciously. “I’m not!” Steve calls out from under Thor’s shoulder. “I swear, I’m not. Tasha can whack me on the head as many times as she wants and I’ll still insist I want Loki to move in.”

“Interesting,” Natasha says. “Well, I’ve no objection.” Clint starts to say something and she stares him down.

“This is so wrong, so, so wrong,” Tony says mournfully. Jane coaxes Thor off of Steve and Loki – he promptly wraps her in his arms for a celebratory make-out session in a corner – and Steve stands up gratefully. “Look, Tony, I know it seems weird, me and Loki, but – ”

“I don’t mean _that_ ,” Tony cuts him off. “You could be humping Coulson for all I care, none of my business. And Loki’s a lot hotter than Coulson. But there is something, I can’t tell exactly what, that is just very off here.” He buries his face into a hand and Bruce pats him soothingly on the shoulder. 

“Ah, I know what it is!” Clint hoots from his perch on the arm of one of the couches. “It’s that we’re all paired off now. Tony Stark’s tower is housing four Avengers couples. We’re the Lovengers!” 

“Gahhh!” Tony yells, clamping his hands over his ears. “I can’t, this cannot, just no, okay? Bruce, come science me!” They watch him stalk out of the room, pulling the obliging Bruce behind him.

“You’re going to have to disable that satellite,” Steve calls after them, “or I’m sending Thor up there to destroy it!” A faint snarl comes back to them from the hallway. 

“Well, that was easier than I imagined,” Loki says, turning to Steve. “Nu-uh,” Clint cuts in, rocking on his couch arm. “You two still have to deal with Fury.” He sounds positively gleeful. “Fury is going to have multiple simultaneous heart attacks.”

“Clint, I’m not sure that’s even possible?” Steve tries, but Clint doesn’t seem to hear him. “I mean, really Steve, when we said you should be able to make calls without consulting SHIELD nobody meant dating Loki. Ooh, what if they revoke your leadership? I am so in the running for that. Also, Coulson is probably going to cry at all the paperwork this will entail. I’ve never actually seen Coulson cry, but this might just do it.”

Steve takes Loki by the hand and pulls him to his feet. “Good night,” he says as he leads Loki to the door. As they head to Steve’s room Clint calls after them in a mournful rendition of Coulson, “So. Much. Paperwork!” 

Steve is very, very glad to be back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. Feedback is very welcome and appreciated :)


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